The Melody Quartet: Alliance
by Ex Atris Scientia
Summary: As Wesker takes Melody in, she begins to learn of her new abilities, of new horizons, and of herself. Melody's life is interrupted when the BSAA find out of her existence and kidnaps her. Helpless, Melody can only trust Wesker to save her - but will he?


The Melody Quartet – Alliances

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any aspect of the Resident Evil franchise. This story is purely for entertainment, not for profit. I do claim rights over the original characters of my stories though, such as Melody.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the second installment of a series. It's called Melody Quartet – Advantage. I would suggest reading that before reading this one, as it informs the events in this story. However, if you are quick-witted, you'll be able to pick up what is going on easy. This story takes place in late 2004, around September. In fact, that is when this whole series starts. This is post-Red Queen, and maintains the canon Krauser's story-current infected state. Now, I've done a LOT of research to get the canon events right (I'm a huge fan of original character stories squeezed in between canon events to increase possibility), but if I got something wrong, and you can provide a source that says so, please let me know! I am no expert.

If you see this it indicates a scene or perspective change:

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

AUTHOR'S NOTE – WESKER: This is all taking place before Wesker meets up with Spencer again, and finds out everything about him and his actions have been controlled by Spencer. Which means Wesker's goals in this part of the series are still his original ones: to have supreme power in terms of largest pharmaceutical company built in his vision. He hasn't fallen off the broom handle in search for a god-like position over a new race. So in other words, this is a slightly less insane Wesker, and thus easier to display as a bit more human. A bit. Don't worry you die-hard Wesker fans. I am one of you, and wont have Wesker turned into something he isn't to satisfy my own story line. He will remain Wesker, through and through. With a bit of poetic licensing.

Now, let's enjoy the story! (Please review – I didn't get many reviews on my last story, and if you even wanted to go back and review that, I'd love it!)

Chapter One

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

Steam tendrils flowed upwards from Melody's wet skin. Droplets fell from the tips of her hair to her quickly-cooling hips and feet. Closing her eyes, Melody could feel her chest pushing out, her breaths coming in deep. Hot, thick hair flowed slowly past her lips, swollen from the scalding hot shower.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

Blood pulsed under her skin. She could almost feel it rush through her veins. It was a heady feeling. Her temples started to throb with it.

Under that though, something else pulsed and ebbed. It was hotter than the steamy air snaking around her naked form. It was hotter even than the scalding water. Her temples throbbed harder. A pressure started building in her mind.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

The dripping of the leaky faucet grated on her ears. Pressure built. Temples throbbed harder. Blood pumped through her body. Within seconds, her whole being was subtly moving in a rhythmic pulse. It all felt like it was on fire.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

Deep within her, a dark and feral anger rushed throughout her cells, her organs, her soul. It tingled along her skin. Melody grimaced, nostrils flared as her breath labored. Her body trembled under the force of it. Eyes snapping open, she caught the briefest glimpse of her own brown irises before that feeling of contraction happened again. It was like her mind was squeezing tightly into a ball, only to whip outwards in a sudden flash.

_CRACK!_

Water gushed out of the previously dripping faucet; at the same time the wall clock chimed the hour. Gasping, Melody jumped and whirled around. It was three o'clock, which meant her meeting with Wesker was in a half hour. She sighed and grabbed a towel. Residual anger fizzled.

It was the third time in the week following her death that she raged and lost control. Part of her worried; most of her just rode the rush.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Her door chirped, like a doorbell. Steeling herself, she walked smoothly to the door, pressing a button on the wall next to it. It swept open, but instead of Albert Wesker, a mousy looking woman stood there.

Melody paused. _Okay, not what I was expecting_.

Rapidly blinking eyes that were overly large thanks to ridiculously thick coke bottle glasses, the woman smiled briefly. "Are you Melody?" Her voice sounded hushed.

Melody raised her eyebrow. Between this woman's eyes, her voice, and her buck teeth that she could see poking out from her mouth, Melody wanted to laugh. She had expected someone more, well, impressive than what stood before her.

"Yes," Melody responded slowly. She swept her amber eyes up and down the corridor. She saw no one else. "Are you…my escort? I have a meeting with Wesker at three-thirty."

Nodding quickly the woman replied, "Yes, I am Amy Marrow, an assistant in the labs. Dr. Wesker came to me personally to ask that I escort you," a look of wonder passed over Amy's face. Melody really struggled to keep from laughing at that point – clearly this woman was in awe of Wesker. She wasn't surprised. Wesker definitely didn't look like any other researcher Melody had seen. They were either fat and short, or tall and scrawny.

Amy beckoned. "If you will follow me, please?"

Melody followed the research assistant's quick pace through various corridors and elevators. Melody took in everything around her, from the bare cream colored walls, to the gray carpet muffling their footsteps, to the fake plants set decoratively along the walls. The feel of the walls and broad windows she passed was more like living quarters, not the industrial white walls she recalled from visits to her father's research facility.

"Where are we?" Melody asked her guide.

Amy jumped slightly. _Skittish little thing_, Melody noted, amused. Amy glanced at her in confusion. "The dormitories of course. Where researchers sleep," Amy answered as it if were most obvious thing in the world.

Melody glared at the woman's back. She was not in the mood for people's idiotic comments and was sorely tempted to hit the woman. As excitement tingled through her body, Melody felt she could change some of her past derisive viewpoints on violence. Just this once.

Then Amy stopped suddenly in front of a door labeled _Albert Wesker, PhD _on a brass plaque. "Here we are," she breathed before touching the doorbell.

The door opened and Wesker stood before her again. He looked casual in a pair of black jeans and a black sweater. He still wore his sunglasses and geled hair. Melody looked at Amy, snorting when she saw the woman's eyes go impossibly wide, only made worse by her magnifying eye glasses, a look of glory freezing her features. Unable to resist, Melody snapped her fingers in front of the assistant's eyes, startling her.

Melody smirked while Amy blushed and blinked rapidly at her shoes. Wesker raised an eyebrow before turning around and walking into his room. Amy tried to glare at Melody for embarrassing her, but Melody was far too entertained by the awkward assistant to care. She smiled sweetly, that tingling feeling first experienced back at her family estate she was starting to love getting stronger as she flicked her fingers in a wave and walked into Wesker's rooms.

She looked around. She seemed to be in a living room of sorts, modern in style, glass tables and black leather seating everywhere. A TV was recessed into the wall above a fireplace. One wall opened up into a balcony that overlooked the valley below the cliff the research facility was nestled in. Classical music played softly, and Melody noticed a table on the balcony, its glass top adorned with dishes of food in a place setting for two.

Wesker stood behind one chair, holding it out. "Please, be seated," he invited cordially. Slowly Melody walked to the chair, watching him, trying to figure him out. Her mind screamed for her to be on alert. Pausing before sitting, her light brown eyes searched Wesker's face, but to her frustration she could read nothing past those damned sunglasses.

Wesker smiled a little as Melody pursed her lips before sitting. She was nervous, watching as he took his seat. She had no idea where she was, no idea what Wesker wanted. Her family was a family of scientists. Epictetus's words "knowledge is power" were taken very seriously in her family's house. Right now Melody felt powerless.

A surge of anger flashed through her. Melody ignored it. "Your suite is very nice. Its quiet opulence far outmatches mine."

Wesker smirked as he reached for a wine glass and a cork opener. "A perk of being a VIP guest of the head researcher."

Deftly he uncorked the bottle. "Tell me when," he said softly.

Melody watched for a moment, waiting until he poured a full glass. "Thank you."

As Wesker poured his own glass she looked at her bowl. A steaming ciabatta evoked growls from her stomach. Roses bloomed on her cheeks as she tried to ignore the sounds only to have Wesker raise an eyebrow. "Eat," he commanded.

Melody didn't need telling twice. Elegantly maneuvering the silverware, she and Wesker ate quietly for some time. Melody took the chance to observe their surroundings.

Clearly the facility they were in was recessed into what seemed to be a very remote corner of an island cliff face. The cliffs around them were gorgeous. They blazed golden and red, lit up by the low hanging sun. Their fire cut jaggedly at the clear blue sky. White clouds wisped across the azure expanse. The mouth of the cliffs they were nestled into opened up into cerulean waters. Melody could hear the rhythmic crashing of waves in the distance on the white sand. A soft, warm wind played with tendrils of her hair. It should have been a beautifully calming scene.

The silence of their meal was like torture to Melody. She was starting to feel some wild desperation; she needed to know what was going on. Melody couldn't stand not knowing. For all Wesker's air was captivating, she was not fooled – something was up. He was extremely dangerous. His stunt with the crumpled door at her family estate showed that quite clearly, even if his nearly instantly healing wounds didn't.

After another moment of agonizing quiet, Melody politely dabbed her mouth with the cloth napkin and took a sip of wine. It was a very good white wine. Taking another sip she felt a bit bolder and broke the silence.

"How did you find me? In the bar," she clarified when he only looked at her.

Wesker shrugged. "I had you watched."

Melody narrowed her eyes. _Had me watched? I don't know if I like that._ Who was he to watch her? What authority did he have over her to monitor her activities like some sort of insect? That feral darkness started uncoiling within her again. "Rather presumptuous," she replied simply.

"I needed to know where you were."

"So you had me watched?" Melody hissed. On the table, plates and silverware started rattling. A deep vibration filled the air. Melody's eyes glinted at Wesker's emotionless face. "What reasoning do you possibly have to justify having me watched?" she demanded tightly.

Putting his fork down Wesker looked her over briefly before answering. Light reflected off his sunglasses. His frank words stilled the rattling dishes, surprising her away from her anger.

"You have no one," his voice was matter-of-fact. "Your family is dead, your servants dismissed. There is the concern of your virus-induced mental abilities. They are uncontrolled and sporadic. For all of this I suggest you stay at my side, for protection." Watching her, he sipped his wine.

Melody raised her eyebrow doubtfully. She certainly hadn't expected this answer. Wesker definitely did not seem like the type to take in orphaned children and raise them as his own. He did not seem the protective kind. Melody had the feeling more that he was a man who seized opportunities. Did he not do just that when he infiltrated her father's lab when invited for a dinner party? Something else occurred to her, however.

Dryly she replied, "Whose protection, Wesker? Mine, or yours?"

Wesker stared at her, a ghost of a smirk starting to show on his own features. "What makes you think I need protection?"

Melody didn't pause to think. "Because once I do train my abilities, I imagine I will be rather formidable."

Wesker shrugged idly. "How would you train yourself?"

Opening her mouth, she paused. Damn him, he raised a good point. When Melody tried intentionally to use her telekinetic power at her estate against her mother, she couldn't. It made no sense since a few minutes before she had released a psychic blast that had destroyed the room she was in and killed her father.

"You may have a point."

Wesker inclined his head. "Until those powers are harnessed, you are a danger to yourself and others. Here, you will be safe."

Melody felt as if he were looking into her soul. She shivered as he continued.

"Besides, where would you go?"

She dropped her eyes back to the wineglass on the table, fingers playing idly with its stem between sips. Her anger completely dissipated as she considered his question. She could go back to her estate, participate in various charities and cotillions until her head exploded. She could go to college – but what would she study?

To be honest with herself, part of her felt she owed him – he did start the events that took her out from under her parent's hold. She had been right to imagine him as the man who would take her away. And with every fiber of her being she _was_ thankful to him for that.

Melody thought back to that tingling excitement that has been setting her nerves pleasantly afire. She wanted to experience _that_ more; she wanted to have _fun_. For years she had been in a numbing state of ennui, plucked and trussed up as a doll, never under her own power. Now she was starting to really feel things, and she loved it. She was addicted.

Looking towards Wesker she knew that life with him would no doubt be an adventure. At the very least it would be stimulating.

So in a decision made purely of boredom, she took a deep drink of wine, and turned fully to face the man before her.

"I agree," she said simply. "I'll stay."

"I'm glad you agree, not that there was any way you couldn't have, really."

Melody laughed internally. _He is awfully sure of himself._

"Before this is set in stone though, I want to give you a small tour and show a piece of what you are agreeing to live with." He fixed her with a stare. "Once you agree after this tour, there is no going back."

Briskly he walked off the balcony into his living room. Bemused, Melody followed him out of his suite and into an elevator. For a few minutes it went down dozens of floors.

"What if I change my mind and decide not to stay with you." She didn't like the sound of what he said. She was starting to wonder about the strings attached to his offer to "protect" her. She felt dumb for not realizing earlier there would be strings.

Without a flicker of emotion he said, "I will kill you. Don't doubt that I can."

Melody felt a twinge of fear. It almost made her say no, as stupid as that sounded. She was glad she had given her preliminary agreement (_no doubt he would have killed me on that balcony and thrown me into the sea_), yet she couldn't help but wonder with some trepidation what awaited on this tour.

Finally the elevator doors opened. Bright fluorescent lights burned against bright white walls. All around her she could see people in white lab coats bent over microscopes or scribbling notes at individual stations. The sharp smell of astringent chemicals stung her nose, causing her eyes to water. She kept pace with Wesker's fast stride, eager to get away from that smell.

Punching an access code, stainless steel doors whooshed open. A few minutes of windy corridors and Melody found herself in front of another door. Walking through with Wesker she could see windows into containment rooms.

Melody stride broke. She hadn't expected to see people in those rooms. Some were shuffling around stiffly while others were lying on the ground. Others cowered in corners. Steps slowed as Melody realized they were test subjects. It was painfully obvious Wesker wasn't testing medicines on them. Some windows were smeared with blood and brain matter, their containment rooms empty. She could see research assistants in front of each window, analyzing and studying and typing on their computers. In a corner she saw the Amy girl; Amy was trying to ignore her and Wesker.

Half way down the hallway, Melody was waiting for the feeling of disgust with what lay before her. Yet it wasn't coming. She was there the day her father brought T-Virus mutants into the catacombs. He trained her how to deal with them in case she had to make an emergency escape. She did feel a pang of sympathy for those people who clearly weren't infected yet with whatever Wesker was testing on them, but that was temporary and replaced with apathy.

Many times in her youth, she had hinted and tried to tell her parent's friends, or associates, what they were doing to her every day only to be laughed at indulgently and told she would understand when she was a parent, that her mommy and daddy were just being concerned parents. She had turned to people for help, and they did nothing; some even told her to be more grateful her parents cared so much to go to such extremes. After a while she became glad her parents kept her isolated. Melody wasn't sure how she would have dealt with seeing the people who laughed off her pain.

_If people didn't care about my helplessness, why should I care about theirs?_ So Melody's heart turned cold to the uninfected in the containment rooms.

Turning around to where Wesker still stood by the entrance, her attention was suddenly caught by movement at her right. In the center of a room Melody saw a man breathing heavily as he stood up, head down, eyes glaring up at the researcher on her side of the window. The researcher didn't seem concerned.

_I guess the windows are multi-paned or bulletproof. But that man inside. He looks so…angry._ As Melody took a few idle steps closer, she saw something more than rage, more than hate, fill the man's face. Red gleamed in his eyes as he screamed, his roar dimmed by some sort of soundproofing. Melody's breath was caught as she saw the pure bloodlust on his features.

Glancing at the researcher at that containment room's station, Melody suddenly flushed and began gasping. Blood was pumping through her body, making her skin feel like it was on fire, racing down her arms and legs. That dark feral feeling was back, but eclipsed by so much more primitive. Black rimmed her sight as she narrowed into a tunnel vision. Images of tearing flesh and arterial spray filled her mind. She could almost taste the warm blood as if it sprayed across her face, could almost smell its heady aroma. Melody felt like screaming herself. Her knees buckled under the strain, and she stumbled while trying to stay upright.

Soft clicking of shoes quietly crossed the floor as Wesker joined her. She wasn't paying attention though. Tearing her eyes from the researcher, Melody couldn't look away from the man in the room as he suddenly rushed forward at the window. Transfixed, she stepped forward and gasped as the man's head bounced back off the window, leaving a bloody smear. Again and again the man rushed the window, trying to reach the researcher outside who was busily scrawling notes, focused.

A normal man would have dropped, but this man kept rushing forward into the window even after his skull split open. As gray matter started smearing the window, the man's movements grew sluggish. Finally he dropped.

Melody was breathing fast, soft lips parted and eyes wide. As the man fell, she could feel the adrenaline leave her body. The sight and smell and taste of blood left her mind. There was a sudden bloom of sharp pinching pain, but that was quickly gone. She felt centered and small and cold. There was a sudden, yawning emptiness. She _knew_ he was dead.

Wesker was watching her when she finally stood up straight and looked back at him. "What _was_ that?" her voice sounded winded, as if she had run for miles. She could feel Wesker scrutinize her, just as she could feel the researchers' intense curiosity of her as they tried to focus on their work. She could feel the locked people's fear. She could feel everyone.

"A failed attempt to breed the T and G viruses together," he responded. His voice sounded distracted. Melody didn't have to look at the blond man to know he was staring at her.

"I felt it," she murmured. Her voice sounded far away. Wesker's eyebrows came together as she went on. "I felt its bloodlust, its desire to kill. I felt its rage and pain when it died. I…I feel the researcher's curiosity about me and what I mean. And I can feel…you."

She turned back to him. She could feel his coldness, his solidity and certainty in what he was doing. He was like hard granite. She could also feel an obsessive curiosity.

In that moment, she looked ethereal with her wide awed eyes, soft parted lips and flushed cheeks. Wesker narrowed his eyes, ignoring her transfixed appearance as she continued.

"I can feel your scrutiny, your mild fascination."

"It is your ability flaring up," Wesker told her. His voice was cold and emotionless, the complete antithesis to her own emotion-filled tones. He needed to focus on using this moment to his advantage, to make her feel as if he were the only one with answers to the question of what she can now do. He could _not_ allow her to stray outside of his influence. "Empathy."

Melody blinked. The thick emotions that swirled within her were draining out of her until she felt more herself: _excited_. Melody stepped away from the black-clad man, reveling in those tingles. It was like she was on some sort of high. She could feel laughter threaten to bubble up from within, a smile tugged at her lips. There was no way she was leaving! The sensations were so rich here; the opportunities to feel and grow were too large. Melody sobered up a bit – she didn't forget who she was dealing with. Wesker was a man who had to be handled carefully and couldn't be underestimated.

"What do I have to do to stay? What's the catch?" she looked at him shrewdly. "I'd be an idiot to think you were doing this out of the goodness of your heart."

Wesker grinned savagely. "Well, I am glad you are not an idiot."

Melody nodded her head gracefully, beckoning elegantly that he should continue. It was time to start having a bit of fun with this man.

Wesker continued, mildly amused. "You let me study you and your virus. When you are properly trained, you will follow my orders, and you will go on missions for me."

Melody thought quickly, but nodded her head. It could have been worse. "In exchange?"

"You get trained, a place to stay, and freedom of movement. So long as you don't disobey me. I am not a babysitter Melody."

_I can deal with that. And who knows, these little missions could be fun_. Melody held out her hand for Wesker to shake. "Agreed." They shook. He squeezed her hand tightly, pulling her close. He towered over her, using his body in subtle intimidation.

"Don't ever betray me Melody," Wesker warned, his voice deadly quiet. "I will kill you." He took off his sunglasses at that point, and Melody repressed a gasp when she saw his red eyes. They were a deep red, almost dull, with cat eye-like slits for pupils. _He isn't quite human_. Biting her lip, Melody steeled her resolve. _Well, am I?_

"Don't worry, Wesker, I won't betray you," she grinned, straightening up and standing her ground. She felt an urge to be cheeky. Everything was getting far too serious. "Not unless I don't get a better room. I want a balcony!"

He was unperturbed by her joke. "Your belongings have already been moved to a suite on the floor below mine."

Melody smiled. _Confident bastard knew I would say yes_.

"There will be a staff meeting tonight at six. I will escort you. I want you introduced to the rest of my team. The last thing I need is lack of knowledge leading to stupid actions."

Melody had the distinct impression he was speaking from experience. Glancing back at the dead man, she followed Wesker to where she lived now.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Melody sat at a round industrial table, bored as everyone gave reports on their individual research projects. Wesker made comments and gave suggestions here and there, giving approval for revisions. In the beginning he had introduced her as a consultant to the research heads. Melody was sorely tempted to roll her eyes. In her jeans and black top, she hardly looked the part. But no one questioned anything. _Either these researchers are complete idiots and Wesker is wasting his time on these peons, or they just don't question him._ Looking again at the researchers rattling off inane details of things she didn't care about, and glancing back at Wesker, who looking forbidding in a black suit, and thought _probably both_.

These were the people Wesker was concerned about making a special effort to have her known to? Melody questioned his judgment. She probably would rarely deal with these people, so why bother?

Finally the meeting drew to a close. Getting up, Melody stretched her back, listening to her spine pop as she worked the kinks out. Two hours of crap she didn't care about. She really wanted to go back and explore her room. It was beautiful, with dark feminine furniture and a wide balcony. It didn't match Wesker's unfortunately, but she supposed she wouldn't betray him for it. She had looked in a few of the drawers and found them stocked with some clothing. Apparently he had done some shopping for her. It was weird, but convenient. Melody only had three outfits, and laundry apparently came by once a week. She guessed he saw the state of her material goods on the road.

She started filing out with the researchers when Wesker's voice stopped her. "Where do you think you're going?" It was mockingly amused.

She turned back to see him leaning back in his chair. He hadn't moved a budge. "Well, the meeting is over right?" she asked, confused. It was roughly eight in the evening, and she wanted to go back to her room.

"I told you I wanted to introduce you to my team," Wesker reminded her as he scrawled notes on his pad and resettled his sunglasses. They had started slipping down his nose.

Melody suddenly had a bizarre mental image of a nerdier looking Wesker sitting there, scrawny, with tortoise shell rimmed eyeglasses slipping down his nose instead of dark sunglasses. Her mind superimposed this image on the Wesker who sat before her. Nerd-Wesker fixed his glasses and wrote notes on his yellow pad.

Melody snorted in laughter, ignoring Wesker's confused glance. After a few minutes she sat and, once she had calmed down, asked, "That wasn't your team?"

Wesker took off his sunglasses and looked at her like she was a moron. His eyes continued to shock Melody, and she found it hard not to visibly react. "You really think I count those idiots as anything more than tools in the lab?" he asked, incredulous. Shaking his head he frowned and returned to his notes. "No, my team will be arriving momentarily."

Melody sighed. _Great, more meetings. Somehow, this wasn't in my conception of fun when I agreed to stay here with him_. Nevertheless, she settled into the groove her ass had shaped in the plush rolling chair, hanging her legs over one arm, and waited for whoever Wesker counted as important.

Thankfully she didn't have to wait long as the doors opened and three people walked in. One was Krauser, still wearing combat gear. Melody felt bile rise in her throat as she looked at him. She did not like him. The condescending attitude he displayed when she was saving his and Wesker's butts grated her nerves. She was sure the feeling was mutual. She was the reason that he had gotten chewed out by Wesker in front of his men for being incompetent.

Behind him walked a tall aristocratic woman. She was vaguely familiar to Melody. Quickly the woman sat down at Wesker's immediate left, smiling towards him as he continued to write notes. Her black hair was pulled into a coiled braid on the back of her head, and she wore a form fitting blue dress that barely fell to her knees. _Form fitting is putting it mildly – looks like if she breathed too deeply she would pop out somewhere_. Her neckline was deep enough to emphasize her cleavage. Her makeup and nails were immaculate. _Aristocratic through and through_. Melody herself would have looked similar if a bit more modest had this been a week ago.

Krauser sat a chair over to the woman, not wanting to sit near Melody. As she smirked, Krauser looked up at her and glowered. Melody returned with a sweet smile and a wave. As Krauser turned red she ignored him in favor of the man who took the chair in front of her.

He was handsome with brown hair and green eyes, his skin mocha brown. Not quite as tall as Wesker, he was still taller than her own five feet five inches. His shoulders were broad under his green sweater, his legs thickly muscled under his brown khakis. Melody _liked_ what she saw, and smiled at the man. He smiled back flirtatiously. Melody felt that tingling excitement flutter again, warmth heating her skin.

"Welcome everyone," Wesker's smooth icy voice splashed over her, allowing her to tear her eyes away from the man. "As you can see, we have a guest." He gestured.

All eyes turned to Melody, who went with instinct and smiled brightly, waving. She wasn't nervous around these people, except maybe the handsome man in front of her. Krauser glared. She ignored him. If he wanted to be a sore loser for Wesker's approval, that wasn't her problem.

The woman looked down her nose at Melody like she was an insect. Melody leveled a cool gaze at her, smiling coldly. She had no reason why this woman would dislike her, but she was ready to play this game if necessary. Aristocrats played it all the time, the game of silent challenge through disapproval. Melody stared at her for a few minutes before the woman turned her eyes back to Wesker.

Melody turned her eyes back to the handsome man in front of her. He stared intensely into her eyes, but there was no hint of disapproval there. Smiling a little, he stared into her eyes a few minutes longer than was polite. Again, Wesker's voice broke through her attention.

"Her name is Melody, _nee_ Annabelle Davenport – "

"Davenport?" the woman asked, startled. She had a sultry Italian accent, matching her light olive skin tone. Melody guessed she was from somewhere in the south of Italy. The woman continued. "Of the Davenports in the United States?"

Melody smiled grimly as the woman gave her a second look over. Her family was known and respected. Melody wondered how soon the Italian would change her tune.

Wesker nodded stoically at the woman. "If I may continue?"

_Clearly one should not interrupt The Wesker_ she thought to herself.

The Italian woman blushed a little and leaned forward apologetically. Melody didn't miss the woman's movements tighten the shirt around her bust, showing off her cleavage even more. _Are you fucking serious?_ It was the first time she said that word, but it fit the situation.

Wesker's naked eyes didn't even waver from the woman's face. "Of course, Albert," she purred, gazing directly into his eyes.

Melody choked on the laughter bubbling up in her throat, biting her lip. The woman ignored her, though Wesker glanced over briefly before continuing.

"As I was saying, this is Melody. She has brought a new virus for our scrutiny which should help progress our goals along. I will be working with her personally." He fixed each of them a stare, lingering on Krauser. "I do not want to hear of any issues amongst any of you. Understood?"

They all nodded. Wesker turned back to Melody. "Melody, this is Excella Gionne." He gestured to the woman, who nodded regally, a tight smile on her face. Melody figured from her attempts at flirtation that this Excella was attracted to Wesker. The Italian woman didn't look like the type to accept the idea of him working personally with any woman very well. "She is a head researcher in the Tricell pharmaceutical company, and my associate."

Excella smiled smugly at Wesker's words, like they were some sort of secret compliment between lovers, or like they put her in a position of authority over Melody. Melody narrowed her eyes at the woman.

Melody's mind focused on something else however. "Gionne?" she inquired lightly. Excella had started the silent disapproval game the aristocracy enjoyed. Melody was going to take it to the next level. "Not the Gionne's of Rome, the _merchant_ cousins of the great Travis family?"

She smiled sweetly into Excella's snapping green eyes. It was clear that this woman valued heritage and prestige – why else would she look and act the way she did? If, though, she wanted to wave that heritage and prestige around as if it mattered, she was in for a rude awakening. Melody decided since the death of her parents that _no one_ would have privileged authority over her again.

Excella's voice was tight as she responded, her accent thicker in her anger. "I have worked to change the perception of the Gionne's and have succeeded. The Gionne's are celebrated, our name proudly displayed."

Melody couldn't care less; she garnered appreciation from having such a deep effect on Excella. _Well the Italians are hot tempered_. Smirking she replied in perfect Italian, "Quali come di Wesker le esposizioni fiero sul suo braccio voi?" _Like Wesker shows you proudly on his arm?_

Excella narrowed her eyes and was about to speak with Wesker interrupted them. "Did you not just hear what I said about wanting no issues? That goes for you too Melody." His red eyes glowered in frustration.

Melody wasn't an idiot; she knew it was time to shut up. So did, apparently, Excella. After a moment of silence Wesker nodded and spoke.

"You have already met Krauser. He handles my interests in Europe and America. This man here is Alejandro Guerrero. He handles my affairs in Central and South America."

Melody looked again at the man, Alejandro. "Pleased to meet you," he told her softly, his voice making his words curve beautifully to her ears. Remember her lessons from her mother about getting a man's attention, Melody looked up from underneath her lashes and smiled coyly.

Wesker looked between his man Alejandro and Melody. Only a fool would miss the attraction between the two. Wesker didn't particularly care, but he didn't want anything to interfere with the work Alejandro was doing, or with what he was starting to call the Melody Project. Wesker decided he would monitor their situation.

"Now that introductions are over," he began, breaking the staring contest between Melody and Alejandro. "Reports. Excella?"

He listened absentmindedly to her report on how the board of the Tricell company took her presentation, making sure to slide a few compliments in here and there to keep her satisfied. He picked up on her reaction to seeing another woman near him, and couldn't afford jealousy to interfere with the highly productive relationship he had with her. He noted that he should have dinner with her soon so she would stay satisfied in the belief that his attentions were on her. He mentally rolled his eyes at the necessity, and at Excella's stupidity for falling for the ruse.

Next to report was Alejandro. Wesker was pleased to see his report held the same business-like directness it always had. His man wasn't distracted. Yet.

While Krauser spoke of how Wesker's interests in France went, Wesker noted the need to pay close attention to Krauser. The mercenary hated Melody, that much was plain. Wesker didn't need this hatred to manifest in poor performance.

He glanced back at Melody, who listened with mild interest to everyone's report. It was intriguing to see she had such an affect to distract on each of the people on his team. He made a note to watch her carefully during his examinations of her. He looked forward to studying her.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Melody fell back onto her bed with a sigh. The meeting had lasted a long time. Wesker nit-picked over every tiny aspect of the reports. It got to the point where Melody almost groaned whenever he opened his mouth to say something. She settled for thinking longingly of her room. They didn't leave the meeting room until ten o'clock. Tired as she was, Melody had spent hours exploring and re-designing her room to her satisfaction.

Tossing and turning in her bed, Melody ran over her mental checklist of what she needed one more time. _Better clothes._ She had basic pants and tops in neutral colors; clearly she needed to spruce up her wardrobe. She would decide what she wore. _Shoes_. Most of what was supplied didn't fit her. _Books_. All they had were science-themed texts lining her bookshelf. Stretching under thick gray covers, Melody pondered briefly replacing some of her furniture. _Nah, I'll keep the contemporary look. Nice chance from my parent's antiques_. She had been pleasantly surprised to find a computer, television and small kitchenette, fully stocked.

_Hmm. Makeup. Hair stuff. That would be nice. I wonder how I order that stuff into this facility? Obviously this isn't a place Yahoo Maps can locate. I'll look closer at that slip of paper Wesker had left in my room._ Melody yawned and turned over to face the large wall of windows leading to her balcony. Finally lying still she led her mind wander as she stared up at the moon. It looked so bright against the inky blue-black sky.

She bit her lip as her mind returned to that South American, Alejandro. _He was a welcome sight in that boring meeting!_ Remembering the way he smiled flirtatiously, Melody found herself lamenting his flying home in the morning. _I wonder how often he comes out here, where ever "here" is._

Smiling lightly to herself, she felt her eyelids close lazily in sleep as she fantasized ways to stave off boredom with Alejandro.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Melody hissed as she felt the sharp tip of the needle insert into the tender flesh of her inner elbow. Bright brown eyes watched crimson liquid fill a small tube slowly. She hated this. It felt as if the inside of her arm were being pinched deeply. She sighed in relief when he finally withdrew the needle.

Wesker's gloved hand came into her view, pressing a cotton ball firmly to stem the tiny wound. With a doctor's skill he taped a gauze bandage to her arm tightly. It throbbed for a few seconds.

"I'll study the virus in your blood to ensure there isn't a chance for mutation," he shared, tone professional. He moved to a computer near her examination table. She sat in a private infirmary, monitors humming all around her. Though a window in a door, she could see other doctors and nurses caring for employees. She learned there were two thousand employees at this gigantean facility alone, and more than half of them were housed here. In addition to an infirmary, there was a cafeteria, restaurant-style dining, multiple gyms, as well as large recreational rooms for sports practice, dance parties, movies, and so on. There were even stores where people could buy rudimentary groceries, clothing and toiletries (including makeup, as she discovered on that slip of paper by her computer entitled "Official Welcome From Tricell"). It was clear that Tricell considered happy workers productive workers.

"So what do we do right now? You just take a sample of my blood and I'm free to go?" Melody watched as Wesker typed some things in the computer.

"We update your medical history and ascertain your physical status right now, noting any differences you perceive between now and before infection. Afterwards we will conduct a series of strength and endurance tests in the gymnasium to investigate the extent of your…upgrades."

Melody narrowed her eyes. "What kind of tests?" She had a horrifying mental image of her running miles on a treadmill and dripping buckets of sweat. Melody repressed a shudder. It was too similar to the fitness regimen her mother had her strictly adhere to in order to maintain her figure.

Wesker ignored her question. "Date of birth?"

"November 17th, 1987. I'm seventeen."

"Any allergies or chronic medical conditions?"

"I'm allergic to idiocy."

Wesker looked at her over the top of his sunglasses, eyebrows raised. Melody noticed he didn't bother typing her answer. Cracking a smile she amended her answer. "I have no allergies."

Keys clicked. "Medical conditions?"

"None."

More clicking. "Any major surgeries or injuries?"

"Neither."

"Any medical issues in your family history?"

"Insanity," she replied promptly. Wesker just looked at her. "Well you saw my parents," she grumbled. Sighing she told him, "There is nothing noteworthy about me medically, beside my infection."

Wesker nodded, continuing to type. "Now, have you noticed any differences physically with your body or senses?"

Melody thought about that. Physically, she felt the same as she ever had. She did feel a rush of confidence though. She had noticed her hearing was a bit sharper, as was her sense of smell. Her eyes though – sometimes time seemed to slow down, and everything moved at a snail like pace. It only ever lasted for a few seconds though. Then things would pick up again. It was disorienting. She first noticed it this morning at the Tricell Community Store when she dropped bottles of shampoo she was looking at. They all seemed to move slowly for a few seconds, then pick up to normal speed. Then, as she rounded a corner on her way to this check up, she noticed someone begin to trip, only to watch them fall in slow motion. She told Wesker all of this, and about her tingling feeling of excitement growing stronger every day after the infection, and reminding him of her empathic experiences.

He digested this information for a few moments. Melody took this moment to observe his attire. Again, black. This time it was slacks and a black top. He did wear a white lab coat, which just looked weird. She had begun to build her concept of Wesker as wearing only black. She stifled a laugh as she realized that all his underwear and socks were probably black too.

Suddenly he spoke, his business tone like a knife cutting through the quiet of beeping monitors. "Preliminarily I would say your virus has increased your senses, and lowered your inhibitions while doing nothing for you physically. The effect on your eyesight is particularly interesting."

Melody crossed her arms, the clockwork of her mind running at full speed. "So it is only affecting my sensing ability really."

"With the exception of your telekinetic ability, sporadic as it may seem."

Melody nodded. "Which is irritating." Taking her chocolate brown hair down from her bun, she shook it out before running her fingers through its silky strands. Thinking aloud she said, "My parents intended this virus to give me an advantage in influencing your mind and actions. The enhanced physical and mental senses must tie into that. If I can be able to tell quicker where you are, what you're doing or what you're feeling, that could conceivably give me an advantage."

She got off the table, walking around idly.

"The telekinetic powers were no doubt to influence my actions directly," Wesker said. "If your parents relied on super strength, there would be no guarantee it would work. But I don't have telekinetic powers."

"I agree, but something is bothering me."

Wesker leaned against the table she had been sitting on, crossing his arms. "What is that?" his voice coolly inquired.

"Why empathy? Why not telepathy? Wouldn't _that_ give me more of an advantage?" Biting her lip she shook her head, frowning. "Empathy isn't precise enough. A person can be affecting how they feel without giving any indication of falsehood. I did it for years, suppressing my rage at my parents and projecting only obedient contentment. If someone were altering their thoughts, they would still be thinking about how to alter their thoughts, thus getting away with it. I would have much more of an advantage over you if I could read your thoughts."

Wesker mused over this for a few minutes before nodding. "You have a point. I would have to review their research. It is possible though that when your body absorbed the virus, the virus had become altered a bit and is expressing itself differently from how it was intended. Viruses are alive, and thus fallible, mutable."

He turned and typed a few more notes in his computer. "We are going to go to the gymnasium and run some tests around your strength, agility and endurance, and see if there has been any change there."

An hour later found Melody soaking with sweat just as she imagined. Wesker had made her run on a treadmill with electrodes attached to her body, lift weights until she literally fell over (Wesker had to move quickly so she didn't crush her own abdomen with a ten pound dumb bell, shocking Melody when he was off to the side one second and above her the next), and basically had three men chase her around various obstacles. He told her it was to test her agility. All Melody knew is that she would never play tag again.

At the moment she upended a bottle of ice water over her head, moaning softly in pleasure. After a few minutes of silence Wesker looked up from her test results to see her panting form lying on the ground.

"There is nothing of any real note to learn here. Your agility, endurance, and strength are that of a normal human, though trainable to be enhanced. It appears your virus is mainly around the mind." He dismissed her with a wave of his hand, turning away and walking out.

_He had sounded almost relieved, or disappointed_, she noted as she began the trek back to her rooms. She couldn't figure out which. She barely could figure out Wesker. She knew he was dangerous, but she had the feeling that protection, even protection of himself wasn't the real reason why he wanted her at his side. Not even training her to be an agent of his explained it enough for her. Her instincts clamored, telling her something was up. She would figure it out, given time. At the moment, she really needed a shower.

Whatever his true intentions were, she was looking forward to learning the details of her virus, and training the abilities it gave her. She just felt too much under Wesker's power for her taste.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Wesker poured over the research data he took from Davenport. For all the man was insane, he and his wife made amazing discoveries. He smirked to himself. It was everything he needed. In the meantime he would train Melody to achieve her full potential, and study the virus' potential and limitations. Sinking deeper into the research he felt a rare calm settle over him, accompanied with a feeling of excitement. Soon, with the unwitting help of Melody, he would gain the next step in his pursuit of power, and become even better than he already was.

Wesker's deep concentration was jarringly interrupted by the opening of his office door. Glowering and about to, perhaps literally, tear the head of the person who dared to interrupt him he stopped himself.

Excella Gionne breezed through the door, bringing with her a cloud of perfume. Wesker struggled to keep his nose from wrinkling in distaste as he picked up on its sharp alcohol undertones. He needed to maintain this association. Which meant he needed to leave her head right where it was.

Sitting in the chair across from his desk she smiled warmly. "Hello, Albert."

Wesker smiled in return. "Excella, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Excella flipped her loosened hair behind her shoulders, widening her smile as a blush lit across her cheeks. "I just wanted to check in about certain projects," she informed him, crossing her long legs to the side. Her pencil skirt rode up on her thighs. Wesker noted this but didn't care to look closely. He had a feeling he knew what Excella was really concerned with, but he played her game regardless.

"Which projects in particular?" his eyes strayed back to the research on his computer screen as irritation began to nip at the corners of his mind. He hoped Excella would just get on with it so he could get back his work. He was looking forward to studying Melody's blood and seeing how the virus was actually playing out in a human host.

"The girl you brought to our meeting last night, Albert." The way she caressed the words, it was as if the staff meeting had been an intimate one for the two of them. Wesker was sorely tempted to roll his eyes but refrained, even if his glasses did shield them.

"Melody," he corrected mildly. He couldn't help but needle her a bit. Her actions and words lately had begun to irritate him more than usual. It wasn't her haughty demeanor towards men, he could handle that with a few well placed compliments and nicely timed dinners for two. It was her presumptions. Her presumptions that they were closer than it seemed, her presumptions that she had risen in the ranks of Tricell of her own accord, her presumptions that she could do whatever she wanted and expect whatever she wanted. That she had any real power in his affairs.

Excella laughed a little. "Oh, yes her," she acknowledged offhandedly. Wesker watched coldly amused as she took a breath and leveled that haughty gaze at him.

"It was my impression, Albert, that we would keep each other informed and a part of the decision process where special projects are concerned. And yet," she continued. Her smile became steely. "There I was faced with the rather unpleasant surprise of your little pet project. Not only am I left out of the loop, as it were, but I then find out from you later that night that she is to be housed in _my facility_ on Tricell's bankroll. You made no attempt to gain my permission or approval."

A look of self-assurance bloomed over her features as she continued. "I think you forget who is in charge here – we are in a Tricell facility. My facility. I head the bioweapons division. You are my partner. As such, I expect to be informed of all decisions you make."

Wesker was no longer amused. This stupid woman actually felt she had some sort of _authority_ in this situation? He had to admit a part of him was impressed with her daring. Not many people could find it within themselves to so blatantly question his actions; anyone who has were either too stupid to realize their mistake, or too brazen to hold back. Intelligence was always one of Excella's merits.

His hand curled into a fist slowly. It didn't excuse the fact that she was overstepping her bounds. No one had the right to question his actions.

Frowning, he acknowledged to himself that he still needed her as an asset, and it would be foolish indeed to lose so valuable a tool over something as petty as her jealousy.

Mentally shaking himself he turned his attention back to the woman who sat before him. He decided to sidestep her questions of his power and right in the situation. It would do nothing to help. Instead, he cut straight to the heart of the matter.

"I would hate to think a woman of your standing would devolve to something as base as jealousy," he replied to her, his cultured voice deep and slow. The effect was almost instantaneous. Excella's face softened and she looked down before returning slightly dazed eyes to his lips. His voice was one of his advantages with women; he used it shamelessly here. "Here I was with such a high opinion of you."

Excella blinked at him. He could almost hear the gears in her mind trying to start working again. "Well, I – "

Wesker cut in over her. "Are you threatened?" he drawled, his fingers playing with a pen. As he predicted, Excella's eyes flicked to his fingers before returning to his face as a blush returned to her cheeks. He smirked. It was obvious what went through her mind when she looked at his fingers. She really was too easy.

What he asked finally registered, and a look of flustered anger crossed her face. "No! Of course I am not," she denied contemptuously. It was a good performance, with the right amount of vehemence.

He deepened his voice. "Because you have nothing to be threatened by, Excella. Not from an seventeen year old girl who killed her own parents."

Excella's eyes widened. "_What_?" she whispered. She shook her head, trying to wrap her head around what he just told her.

"They mistreated her for years, and when she was infected by them she used her new found abilities to exact revenge," he summarized. His tone was disinterested.

Frowning Excella focused on this new tidbit. Wesker was thankful for her intelligence. It allowed her to take things in stride. One of his pet peeves was having to slow down and re-explain things to those of lower intelligence. "Infection? What kind of infection?"

Wesker turned his computer screen to face her. A summary of Davenport's intention for his project was displayed. "That is why she is here," he told her, businesslike once more. "Her father created a virus from a heavily genetically modified vein of the Progenitor virus that enhanced the mind's abilities."

Excella scanned the words on the screen, focused. "In what manner?" she inquired briskly.

Wesker eyed the data. "The intention was the grant the host telekinetic powers as well as telepathic abilities. It enhanced senses."

She glanced at him. "Intention?"

Raising an eyebrow he answered. "The telepathy hasn't quite worked in the way Davenport intended. Rather than read thoughts, Melody can acutely perceive strong emotion. That may change in time."

Excella was quiet for a few moments, soaking in his words. "Are there any side effects, or signs of mutation?"

He shook his head. "As far as I can tell, no. Davenport put this virus through many test screenings."

He turned the screen back towards himself. It wouldn't do to give Excella too much information. He wouldn't put it past her to try to synthesize a virus for herself. He didn't miss the look of disappointment on her face before she schooled it back to her confident smile.

"Let me guess, Albert," she purred, green eyes lingering on his glasses. "You intend to create this virus for yourself?"

Wesker nodded, smirking again. "Of course. Why else would she be here? I want to study the virus' drawbacks and possible complications."

Excella's hand played idly with the pendant that rested between her breasts. Wesker didn't bother to honor her absentminded attempts at seduction with a glance. A faraway look unfocused her eyes. "So, she is here to study for your own…enhancement."

She smirked at him, amused at her own teasing remark. Gritting his teeth he replied, "For my quest for power, Excella."

She stood. "Alright, Albert. I understand now." She smiled coyly at him. "Thank you for explaining it to me."

Wesker stood politely. "No problem," he replied smoothly. As Excella nodded at him and turned to leave he spoke again. "Perhaps you would care to join me for dinner tonight Excella, on my balcony? We can discuss other…projects."

The woman's green eyes flashed up at his, a look of haughty satisfaction on her face. "Of course, Albert. I wouldn't pass up such an offer to have some time to discuss projects in depth." A smile twisted her lips as she left.

Wesker raised an eyebrow sardonically as he sat back down and turned to his computer once more.

"Of that I have no doubt," he muttered derisively.


End file.
